


Smoke and Mirrors

by Sashataakheru



Series: Porn Battle Fics [4]
Category: Australian Comedy RPS
Genre: FrankenHills, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wil isn't surprised that Adam's teasing him again. What's more surprising is the way he does it and the reward he gets for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle VIII. Prompt: 'Adam Hills/Wil Anderson, handcuffs, leather, corsets, cats, sleeping'
> 
> Also references a story Wil told on The Glass House about his cat sleeping on his crotch if he forgets to put pants on before bed.

You’re lying in bed, lifting your head as far as possible as you strain to see him. Adam stands there, leaning against the wall, smirking at you. He’s in his Frank’n’Furter outfit, including appropriate wig and make-up. He casually begins wanking, stroking his dick in a bid to piss you the fuck off. His head rests against the wall, totally ignoring you.

You’d go and maul him yourself, but you can’t move. Something’s attaching your wrists to the bed, though you can’t quite see what. Your arms are at an odd angle behind your head.

He casually looks down at you, as if he’s just worked out you’re there too. The look on his face is tantalising. You shift under his gaze, trying to struggle free. Adam just chuckles, low and sweet.

“You’re not getting out of there,” he says.

He lights a cigarette and takes a drag – wait, since when did he smoke? – and stalks forward, slipping onto the bed in front of you. He blows the smoke over you, and it feels so at odds with how he normally is, but somehow, it works. He lies on his stomach, propped up on your chest with his arms. The way he’s looking up at you, the smoke blown out of a corner of his mouth, the way a finger traces circles on your chest…

“I-I didn’t know you smoked, Adam,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.

“I don’t,” he says, and sends a stream of smoke above him.

“So-so why are you-?”

“Shh, you speak too much,” Adam says. He squashes the cigarette out on your chest, but there is surprisingly little pain. You glance down at the wound and find only a small reddening circle.

Adam shifts up your body like the smoke he’d just blown over you, a hand reaching behind to grab your head as he kisses you. His breath is disgustingly sweet. What had he been smoking? Cigarettes don’t taste like that. Then again, you stop thinking at that moment when his kiss becomes rather more tongue than lips.

He’s grinding against your groin now. His kissing – tongue-fucking – has turned into him sucking hard on your neck, nipping the skin with his teeth. His hands sink lower down your chest, and you know where this is going, can already feel what it’s going to be like.

You lean your head back, giving your neck a rest from straining. Adam sees it as your surrender and intensifies his actions, being even more obscene than even you thought he was capable of as he moves back down your body to your groin. You close your eyes. The sensations feed your fantasies.

He’s sucking your dick now, but he’s never sucked your dick like this before. You’re not entirely sure what he’s using down there, but it’s sticky and warm and he’s making a mess as he cleans it up. You’re writhing again, trying to give you something, _anything_, to make all this teasing worthwhile, but he refuses. It was only then that you realised your legs hadn’t been attached to the bed like your arms had been.

Then – wait, that feels like lube. He’s stroking your dick with lube. Is this going to end with-?

You open your eyes and look down at him, eyes wide with desire as he prepares you. This isn’t the way he usually fucks you, but then again, not much of this night has been like the way he normally fucks you. He crawls up your body again, leaning in close as he teases you.

“Better make it a good one, Anderson. I’m in the mood for a good time,” he drawls.

He kisses you once more before lowering himself down onto you so slowly you think you’re about to die from frustration. His speed doesn’t increase either. He gives you the slowest most utterly frustrating fuck you’ve ever had. You hate the way he moves on you, slowly, deliberately slowly, his hands leaning on your chest for support.

As you look down his body his right leg catches your attention. It doesn’t look right, and you can’t for the life of you work out why. You keep staring at it, trying to work out why it looks wrong. Then it hits you as his movements allow the sparkly high heel to slip off. _That’s a real right foot. Adam isn’t supposed to have a real right foot._

The shock distracts you from the sound of Adam grunting above you. What the hell is going on here? Adam smiles down at you and grips your chin. He keeps working you, distracting you from the inconsistency. He leans down and kisses you just as he scratches your thigh, causing you to scream as you come at last-

  
Suddenly, you’re awake and you look down your body. There is no strange Adam; indeed, he’s sleeping peacefully beside you. No, what is there is your cat, fast asleep on your groin. A hand slips below the covers to see if you remembered to wear boxers to bed. Nope, you hadn’t. Jesus Christ.

The cat stirs as you move and glares at you through the darkness. How dare his bed move? He gets to his feet and walks down your body to greet you, now that you’re awake. You stroke his head gently, watching him rub his face against your hand.

“Are you gonna learn to sleep anywhere else mate?” you whisper.

The cat just meows and sits down on your chest, looking at you as if you’d just asked him if he could possibly stop licking his butt.

You lie back, running a hand through your hair. Remembering the dream, you make a mental note to mention this to Adam tomorrow, if not the cat part then definitely the Frank’n’Furter part. You needed to see him in that costume again, and hopefully, he’d allow you to wear your own corset again, because you could never allow yourself to do that, you needed his permission to wear it. You turn to him and watch his face.

Ready to go back to sleep, you shoo the cat off your chest and lock the cat out of your room. You most certainly did not need more smutty dreams. You pull a pair of boxers on and climb back into bed. Adam shifts, but doesn’t wake. You lie on your stomach, just like he is, and close your eyes, hoping for less distracting dreams.


End file.
